


Oh no!! A genuine conversation!

by carolc24



Series: UT/MH crossover nonsense [4]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: ADHD Papyrus, Angst, Autistic Papyrus, Babybones, Big Brother Sans, Gen, Inspired by Marble Hornets, Intrusive Thoughts, NO HORROR, Papyrus (Undertale)-centric, References to Death and Violence, Slendersickness, Vague references to self harm, anxious papyrus, but no actual slenderman, emetophobia warning, set in a hospital
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-31
Updated: 2018-09-13
Packaged: 2019-07-04 19:57:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15848298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carolc24/pseuds/carolc24
Summary: Papyrus can't avoid his problems forever.  Eventually, he'll have to face them head on, or there will be consequences.  That doesn't make it any less annoying.





	1. Signal vs noise

**Author's Note:**

> This should make sense on its own, but if you want full context for what Papyrus is going through, I'd recommend "Guiding the way when you yourself are lost" earlier in this series. 
> 
> It should also make sense without knowing anything about Marble Hornets. Just in case though, Papyrus has an illness with a supernatural cause, but the supernatural stuff doesn't really matter here. There's no horror here, just angst.

There is a low noise when Papyrus wakes up.

It’s the kind of noise that repeats. Papyrus memorizes it, plays it back in his own head. It matches up; he knows what sounds he'll hear before he hears them. Noise stops counting as noise when he uses that trick. Real noise is unpredictable, like at school when people are shouting and he can’t filter it out.

If he could, he’d build a filter out of electrical parts to do the work for him. He’s read about how they use filters in medical equipment to get rid of all the random jitters in people’s vital signs. Too bad they don’t have the right parts at school.

_Wait... am I in a hospital?_

He doesn’t quite feel right. Everything feels a little too stiff and starchy on his bones. The smell is also wrong; it’s kind of sweaty, but also a lot like soap. He’s never been to a hospital, but if he had to imagine what it would be like, he’d imagine something like this.

He rolls over. Light pours into his eyes, and a wave of nausea hits him before he can see properly.

The ceiling is tiled and crowded with fluorescent lights. There’s a wall with a window on it, but the blinds are closed.

He frees his hands from the tangle of thin sheets and raises them up in front of his eyes. (He tries not to look at his hands.) He finds what he's looking for: a wristband on his right arm. His eyes won’t focus enough for him to read what the wristband says, but he’s seen enough movies to know that this is what hospital patients wear.

Papyrus’s head aches dully, strained by the sudden bright lights. He covers his eyes and tries not to move too much.

He can’t think of why he might be here. Nothing except his head hurts very much; mostly he just feels stiff and kind of groggy. Maybe he got hit in the head and lost his memory? That seems reasonable.

Maybe he just keeps accidentally knocking himself out and losing his memory several times a month. He hasn’t been sleeping much... maybe he keeps passing out from lack of sleep, and he hits his head as he falls over. And then has some weird dreams while he’s knocked out.

Bracing himself for more nausea, Papyrus tries to sit up. His arms can’t support him very well, and the wall behind him isn’t within reach, so he just flops onto the bed. Everything inside of him seems to spin violently, pushing against the walls of his skull, fighting to get out.

He covers his eyes again and tries to breathe. He times his breaths to match the background noise. Match the frequency, become a part of the sound. It’s like a signal, the opposite of noise. Slowly, everything settles, and he can think again.

Maybe Sans took him here. Maybe Sans finally got sick of dealing with Papyrus’s bad moods, and just dropped him off here. _Hey,_ Sans would say. _I have this weird little brother who screams a lot for no reason and keeps getting lost in the woods. Do you want one of those? Cool. I’m off to work now. Just make sure not to let him near any sharp objects. Bye, Papyrus._

He’s breathing funny now.

_No... stop being stupid. You’re going to make yourself cry._

In his head, he lists off the names of all the kids who were in his class last year, and all of the teachers at his school. It’s too easy, so next he tries the names and authors of all the books he owns, in alphabetical order. He probably gets a lot of them wrong, but then he makes it to the signal processing book and gets distracted thinking about filters. He tries to remember what a low pass filter circuit looks like. The circuits look a lot cooler than the equations describing what they do. The digital filters are even more confusing. What are all the different ones called again?

A real noise stops Papyrus’s train of thought. He tenses up, waiting to hear it again. After a few seconds of vague panic, he does hear it again. It’s the sound of someone snoring nearby.

He very carefully turns his head towards the sound and sees Sans slumped over in a little chair up against the wall, fast asleep.

Sans looks even messier than usual. Papyrus’s vision still isn’t working properly, but he can see Sans’s awkward-looking sleep position, all sprawled out with his head resting on the wall. There’s something small and rectangular on his lap. A book?

He should be wondering why Sans looks so tired, but instead everything inside him relaxes. The leftover tension seems to melt away. It’s just Sans. Sans is here with him. Sans is going to take care of everything.

Something about those thoughts doesn’t sit quite right. Is there something he’s forgetting?

He’s about to call out for his brother when he stops. Something becomes clear to him. Sans is asleep in a hospital, but not in a hospital bed. He isn’t sick, he’s here to look after Papyrus, the one in bed with a wristband. He wouldn’t just fall asleep in the middle of an emergency unless he was too tired to do anything else.

Papyrus isn’t in trouble. He doesn’t need anything right away. There’s no reason for him to wake up his brother, who’s probably exhausted from looking after him for hours, just for some comfort.

The thought makes his soul feel like it’s rotting. It’s like he’s angry, but he knows he shouldn’t be. This is the right thing. He’s being a good person. Good people do the right thing even when it hurts, even when they feel miserable. There’s no need to be angry. Is there?

The unease comes back. He’s definitely forgetting something. He chases the feeling. Who is he upset with? Himself, but also Sans. Did Sans do something wrong? Sans doesn’t do anything wrong, except steal paper napkins from restaurants and make up awful jokes. Maybe he’s upset that Sans doesn’t take things seriously? He does take things seriously when it’s really important, or at least he doesn’t argue with Papyrus about it.

Oh. He remembers now. They’d been fighting. About something important.

Papyrus had been angry about something, and Sans didn’t want to listen. He still can’t remember the details, but he remembers all of the ugly, unpleasant feelings. Being angry at Sans, yelling at him, saying he hated him... that was one feeling. The other was the kind of inward anger that he didn’t let out, the kind that makes him feel like he’s being eaten alive.

He’s been getting both of those feelings a lot lately. They must have been really strong if he’d taken it out on Sans like that. What’s wrong with him? Everything hurts. He curls up and stifles a sob.

_Don’t cry. Don’t throw up. Don’t make trouble. Just wait. Let Sans sleep. Act like a grown up for once._

Papyrus can fix this. When Sans wakes up, he'll apologize, and they'll go home, and everything will go back to normal.

He matches his breathing with Sans’s snoring, and waits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be at least one more part to this. I'm not sure where it would go after chapter two, either it would be about Papyrus's ~recovery process~ or there would be a big time skip like in Marble Hornets and more characters would get involved. We'll see!
> 
> A lot of this chapter is inspired by my own experience. All the talk about signals is basically just me geeking out about some really memorable college classes I took five years ago. I could see Papyrus finding a textbook on the subject and getting really into it.


	2. Time to breathe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The titular conversation happens. Nothing goes according to Papyrus’s plans, but he’s not too upset about it.
> 
> No new warnings but the emetophobia warning applies way more to this chapter than the last one.

Papyrus spends the next few hours going over what he’s going to say to Sans. He still can’t remember what actually happened. Maybe it didn’t happen at all. It would be best to start with a question: “Remember what happened the other day, with the argument?” That way it won’t sound like Papyrus forgot. But Sans might just say “yeah” and not give anything away. He could just say “I’m sorry for what I said to you” and Sans will know exactly what he’s talking about. But he needs to lead that with something. “Hey Sans, did you sleep well? Good. By the way, I’m sorry...” That could work. He practices it a couple of times in his head.

After practicing it three times, Papyrus hears rustling from where Sans is sleeping. He’s waking up. _This is it,_ Papyrus thinks. He gets ready to start talking. The first word in his speech is “Hey”, so he holds the word in his mind.

A few seconds pass. The rustling stops. Maybe Sans was just moving around in his sleep-

“Papyrus?”

He jumps. The sudden movement sends his head spinning again, worse than before. He holds still and waits for it to pass, his hands covering his ears.

Someone is talking, but he can’t make it out. The sound grates on his ears. It’s too loud, or too near. His entire skull is vibrating with it.

There’s a hand on his shoulder. The voice is getting closer to his face, so close he can feel its breath. He can’t think. He starts hyperventilating. He’s too weak to move. He can’t escape. It's going to take him away.

The hand is gone, and in a few seconds, so is the panic, as quickly as it came. Papyrus can’t feel the voice either. Slowly, the nausea fades away. He opens his eyes.

It’s just Sans. He’s eye level with Papyrus, probably kneeling down. He pulls his hand back quickly, looking stricken.

Just Sans. Of course it is. Papyrus had just heard Sans talking to him. Why had he forgotten that? He remembers his plan.

“H-hey, Sans,” Papyrus rasps. It’s harder to talk than he expected. But he can’t let that stop him. He tries to smile. “Did you... sleep well?”

Sans doesn’t answer. He just stares at Papyrus.

“Did you sleep well?” Papyrus tries again. He speaks more slowly, and tries to raise his voice. Sans needs to answer. He can’t apologize until Sans answers.

“Uh...” Sans looks the way he does when he’s about to laugh, but without the eye lights. “...I guess? Are you okay, Papyrus?”

Papyrus focuses on not looking away from Sans’s face, but he can’t help but feel unsettled. He doesn’t know how to answer. He didn’t practice for this. “Good,” he says. “By the way... I’m sorry... for what I said to you.”

Sans grimaces. His eye lights are back, at least. “Sorry, bro,” he says, “but I’m not sure what you’re talking about.” He’s quieter than usual, and he’s watching Papyrus so intensely, it makes him want to squirm. “Are you okay?” 

Papyrus can see that his plan is failing. Sans doesn’t want to talk about the fight. He’ll need to bring it up again later. For now... well, he can’t talk properly when he’s like this. He might as well suck it up and ask for help.

“My head hurts.” He gives up on trying to project. “And... can you sit me up?”

Sans is at Papyrus’s side in an instant, lifting him up into a sitting position. Everything lurches. Papyrus shuts his eyes and tries to breathe through it again, but it’s too much. He retches. Sans seems to realize what’s about to happen and helps him lean forward, right as he throws up globs of bile onto the sheets.

“Oh, jeez,” Sans murmurs, almost to himself. “I’m sorry, dude. I should have gone slower.”

Papyrus shakes his head. “It’s...” He dry heaves before he can finish the thought. His eyes are watering. He can feel the bile soaking into the sheets. With trembling arms, he pulls them up and throws them off the bed and onto the floor. For a second, he regrets it. What if he throws up again and it gets on his clothes? But another round of dry heaving makes it clear. There’s nothing left to throw up.

All of his energy spent, Papyrus leans into Sans, who’s sitting on the bed now. “It’s okay,” he says weakly, “I feel better now.” It’s the truth. His head doesn’t hurt as much, and he can think more clearly.

Sans hugs him. It’s light, not too restraining, but nice and warm. “It’s good to hear you talk again,” he says.

Papyrus freezes. “When was I not talking?”

—————

As if Papyrus hadn’t been through enough already. He’s throwing up bile, probably because he hasn’t eaten normally in days. It’s not what humans call bile, but it’s similar enough that monsters adopted the word. Thick, slimy clumps of magic, all over Papyrus’s sheets.

And for some reason, Papyrus is trying to comfort Sans through all of this. As if Sans is the one who needs comfort right now. Sans isn’t the one who’s too weak to sit up on his own, on top of everything else.

And Papyrus has lost his memory, on top of being too weak to sit up, on top of everything else. What more could possibly happen to him?

Actually, maybe it’s a good thing Papyrus can’t remember. They can talk about his quiet state later. For now, they need to focus on Papyrus’s physical health.

“You’ve been asleep for a while,” Sans says. It’s not a lie, but it still sits wrong. Hopefully Papyrus won’t notice. Or at least, he won’t say anything about it. “Hard to talk to you when you’re passed out.”

Papyrus is quiet for a moment. Then he asks, “Why are we here?”

Sans can be honest about this. “You had a seizure,” he says. “A big one. They aren’t sure what caused it yet. The doctor, I mean.”

“How long have we been here?”

“About three days, I think.”

“Did it happen after the fight?”

Oh. That fight must be weighing on Papyrus’s mind. Maybe that’s what he was apologizing for earlier. “Yeah, only a few minutes after. I heard some noises in your room and went to check on you. That’s when it happened.”

Sans wishes he could get the image of Papyrus convulsing on the floor out of his mind. It doesn’t help that he’s had to go over it multiple times, explaining what he saw to the doctor.

He doesn’t have much time to dwell on it now, though, because Papyrus speaks up again. “I’m really sorry,” he says. “I shouldn’t have gotten that angry at you.” His voice is strangely small.

Sans sighs. This isn’t what he was hoping to talk about right now. He’d rather they never talked about it again, honestly. It just got him thinking about how badly he’d messed up. “It’s okay, Papyrus. You had every right to be angry.”

“Oh...” Papyrus starts fidgeting with the hood of Sans’s jacket. Sans hadn’t even realized how still Papyrus had been, until now. It’s unsettling when Papyrus is too still. His voice becomes uncertain. “I don’t... actually remember what we were fighting about.”

Sans laughs. He can’t help it, it's just such a Papyrus thing to do. “So you said sorry to me, without even knowing what you were sorry for?” 

“Well!” Papyrus’s defensive tone makes Sans smile a little. “I... I remember getting really angry. Like... I think I told you I hate you?.” His voice is getting smaller and smaller. Sans has to strain to hear him. “And I thought maybe I’d done something really horrible, and you’d be mad at me, or afraid of me, or something. So... I wanted to make it better.”

Sans isn’t smiling anymore. Why is Papyrus doing this to himself? Why does he need to punish himself so much for saying something stupid in the heat of an argument? And- wait.

“Afraid of you?” Sans tries very carefully not to hug Papyrus any more tightly. It wouldn’t help to make him feel trapped. “You just... I mean, what you said, it wasn’t great, but I’m not afraid of you for it.” Clearly something else is on Papyrus’s mind. The hard part is getting him to talk about it. “What makes you say that?” He has a guess. But if Papyrus has really forgotten...

Papyrus deflects, as usual. “You said I had a seizure,” he says. “Why doesn’t the doctor know what’s wrong?”

Sans appreciates the change of subject, if he’s being honest with himself. “They said they can’t be sure until they talk to you,” he says. “They want your side of the story. Speaking of them...” He remembers that Papyrus probably needs medical attention, or at least something to eat and some clean sheets. “How about I page them, so they can meet you?”

——————

The doctor is all smiles and jokes, trying to put Papyrus at ease. They call for a meal and a painkiller for the headache. As Papyrus eats his plain pasta from the hospital cafeteria, the doctor explains.

Since his seizure, Papyrus has been in and out of consciousness. When he woke up before, he was at times passive, sitting in his bed and not talking or doing anything. At other times, he was singlemindedly trying to escape his room and wouldn’t respond to anyone. Once he did escape the hospital completely, but Sans brought him back and he was given a sedative. Mostly he was in some sort of deep sleep, completely unresponsive.

(This isn’t the complete story, but Sans is glad the doctor is sparing the details. Papyrus doesn’t need to know where Sans “caught” him. Or that no one saw him leave the hospital. Or how much he’d been screaming.)

To prevent more seizures, he’s been taking an anticonvulsant twice a day. He’s also been fed through direct absorption, which Papyrus is pretty sure means they put it directly into his soul. The doctor says that could explain why he was sick earlier; not everyone takes to it well.

Now that Papyrus is awake and lucid, it’s time to plan next steps. The doctor wants to keep him at the hospital for another day, in case anything goes wrong. They’d also like to interview Papyrus about his health history leading up to the seizure. The interview can happen with Sans in the room, or they can ask Sans to leave. The doctor offers Papyrus a few hours to think about it, which Papyrus accepts gladly.

And then they’re left alone again.

—————

“What do you wanna do?”

Papyrus picks at the pasta. He doesn’t know what to choose. Sans would probably be a lot more helpful to the doctor. Papyrus isn’t sure how much of what’s been happening to him is real. And even if it’s all real, what can he say without ruining everything? 

How does he even know if the seizure is related to the other stuff? He could stick to the more believable things, the headaches and the insomnia. He doesn’t know how to talk about the _feelings_ thing.

That’s the big problem. Papyrus isn’t sure if he can talk about... that specific problem in front of Sans. It would be cruel of him. Sans thinks he just got angry one time, but it was so much worse than that. How could Sans ever forgive him, if he knew?

He clenches his fists. _Stop thinking about it. Sans is right there. He’ll be able to tell._

He focuses on answering Sans’s question. “Um, you should probably stay.” He forces himself to relax. “You can explain it all better than me.” Yes, he can commit to that choice. More importantly.... 

“You lied earlier,” Papyrus says. “You said I was just asleep. You didn’t say anything about- about _that_.” 

He isn’t angry. He can’t let himself be angry again. Not at Sans. The doctor’s account made him afraid. Afraid that his mind is no longer his own, that he could do terrible things without realizing or even remembering, and the memory of the fight comes back to him.

“I saw that video,” he says before Sans has the time to defend himself. “From the camera in the woods. I tried to hurt you, and I forgot about it, didn’t I? But you knew, and you didn’t tell me.” He’s too close to getting angry. He realizes he’s clenching his fists, and relaxes them. He takes a couple of deep breaths.

“I asked you why you didn’t tell me, and you said you didn’t want me to get upset,” Papyrus continues. “And...” He takes another deep breath. “I said I hated you, and ran up to my room.” His memory stops there.

Sans sighs. “I shouldn’t have kept that secret,” he murmurs. “I was just... worried you’d take it badly.” Sans isn’t sure which secret he means. Probably all of them.

Papyrus rocks back and forth, focusing on the bounce of the bed. He can’t think about Sans’s reasons. Too risky. “It’s okay,” he says. “I forgive you, can we please not talk about this anymore?”

“You brought it up,” Sans says bluntly.

“I know!” Papyrus exclaims. It’s too loud, why is he so loud? “I’m sorry,” he says, but it comes out as a whisper. Why can’t he talk right? The rotting feeling comes back, choking him. He stops rocking and holds his breath. He can’t let himself cry. Why is he such a crybaby?

“Whoa, hey, what’s going on?” Papyrus starts rocking again. He needs to calm down, Sans is already upset. Sans has been hurt enough by Papyrus.

With that thought, Papyrus can’t help but sob. And then he’s gasping, gulping up big lungfuls of air and pushing it out again. He clamps his hands over his mouth. Almost instantly, his head starts swimming. Dark spots appear in his vision, and he slumps forward, releasing his grip on himself.

“ _Papyrus!_ “

Papyrus starts gasping and sobbing and hiccuping, too tired to hide it anymore. He notices Sans staring at him, with no eyelights and keeping his distance. Of course, he’s afraid of Papyrus, he was trying to hide it earlier, but now he’s showing his true thoughts. Afraid and repulsed. Papyrus folds up as tightly as possible and starts crying even harder.

Papyrus cries for what must be a long time, because when he’s calm enough to look at Sans again, Sans isn’t where he was before. Papyrus looks around the room and sees Sans sitting on the foot of the bed, watching him.

“Hey,” says Sans. “Feeling better?” His eyelights are back, but his face seems off somehow. Papyrus looks away. “Yeah,” he says. He’s breathing normally again, and the rotting feeling is mostly gone.

“Listen...” Sans says quietly. He isn’t looking at Papyrus either. “You don’t have to talk about it, but... if there’s anything I can do to help, could you tell me?” His voice sounds oddly tight. “‘Cause I’m really at a loss here.”

Sans’s tone of voice would have made Papyrus cry, if he had any tears left. “I’m sorry...” he says.

Suddenly Sans is looking right at him with wide eyes. “That’s not what I meant,” he says, and his voice is hard now. “Don’t worry about how I feel. Worry about how you feel. I want to help _you_ feel better, not me.”

Papyrus shrinks back. “But... I hurt you.” The rotting feeling is back, but he needs to say this. “In that video, I hurt you. And the doctor said they gave me a sedative, probably because I was hurting people again, and I don’t remember any of it, so I don’t know how to stop it-“ He stops to breathe. 

“What if it keeps happening? What if... what if I kill you?” Saying it out loud makes Papyrus feel lighter, somehow. He keeps going. Too late to stop. “I keep having these dreams, where I’m in the woods with someone and I kill them. I do it the same way every time, I use my magic to keep them from escaping and then I stab them with a kitchen knife until they stop moving. I think about those dreams all the time. They feel so real, sometimes I think I really did kill someone. And when I get mad-“ He stops to breathe again, and makes a point not to look at Sans.

“When I get mad, it’s like I can’t think about anything else. Like, there’s a part of me that just wants to kill people, and it’s so loud when I get mad, I have to focus really hard on shutting it up, or else I’ll lose control and attack you, or one of the neighbors, or someone from school, and- and I won’t even remember doing it! What if I slip up? I don’t- I can’t hurt you again, I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to you, but it’s- it’s okay if you want to send me away, I’ll be fine as long as you’re safe, that’s all I really care about anymore-“ He stops to breathe again and freezes, realizing what he just said.

The bed springs back into place as Sans stands up suddenly. “What... what the hell are you saying? Why would you think I’d want to send you away?” Papyrus watches him pace around the room. There’s a staticky feeling in the air, like something is about to snap. He turns to face Papyrus. “Do you really think I don’t care about you? Or are you just torturing yourself?”

“I didn’t mean to say that...”

“But you were thinking about it. How long have you been thinking about yourself like this?” Sans is quieter than Papyrus expected. He sounds hurt and confused, which is somehow worse than angry.

Sans must have realized what Papyrus was thinking, because he starts up again. “You’re beating yourself up right now, aren’t you? Thinking you somehow messed up because I’m upset?” Then he deflates and sits back down on the bed. “How long has this been going on?”

“I don’t know...” Papyrus can’t help but feel ashamed. He can’t hide anything from Sans anymore. Sans will see past everything. “I started having the dreams before the first time you found me in the woods, I guess.”

“Wow...” Sans almost whispers. Papyrus hasn’t seen him with this expression in a long time. “I’m so sorry I didn’t see it. I can’t even imagine.”

“It’s okay.” Papyrus tries to smile, but it doesn’t feel right. “It isn’t so bad. Just kind of scary, sometimes.” It’s a pretty obvious lie, but he doesn’t want to see Sans looking like that for any longer.

Sans doesn’t react to that. He just watches Papyrus for some time, with those nearly empty looking eyes. Then he says, “I’m really proud of you.”

“What?” Papyrus hasn’t expected that at all. “What for?”

“For telling me all of that. You must have been holding it all in for so long...” Sans smiles. “It was really brave of you to be so honest.”

Papyrus has no idea how to respond that, so he waits for Sans to start talking again. “You didn’t hurt anyone, though,” Sans says. “You were just trying really, really hard to get out of this room. The doctor was worried you’d hurt yourself hitting the wall or something. And they didn’t want to restrain you, so they calmed you down with healing bullets and then gave you an injection.

“I don’t think you hurt me that time in the woods, either. I definitely wasn’t hurt when I woke up the next morning. I think you might have been coughing up blood, though.” Sans grimaces. “Probably should have taken you to a doctor back then.”

Papyrus ought to bring up the other thing about the video. The tall creature that watched him and Sans from the background. But he isn’t ready quite yet. It still feels too terrible and strange for words.

Besides, even if he didn’t successfully hurt Sans, he still tried to do it. Sans can’t argue that away.

“But the most important thing,” says Sans, “is that you don’t have to go through this alone. I’ll always be here for you, okay? I’m always gonna love you, no matter what.

“So we can talk to the doctor about all of this, maybe they can help. And maybe I can help, too. Like I said earlier, anything you need.”

Papyrus is getting choked up again. He shouldn't be listening to Sans. Even if Sans can't see what's wrong with him, it's still Papyrus's responsibility to keep him safe. But... he's so sick of being afraid. Maybe he can tune the fear out for a little while. “Um, for now... can we just hug?”

Sans grins. “‘Course we can. C’mere.” He opens his arms, and Papyrus practically launches himself into them.

Until the doctor comes back, neither of them say anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took what felt like forever to write because I keep falling asleep while writing. Also I had no idea how it would end up going.


End file.
